


Not So Simple

by love_in_nature



Series: Prompts [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Masturbation, Smut, Solavellan, solavellan smut, some blindfold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-27 22:58:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10055693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/love_in_nature/pseuds/love_in_nature
Summary: Another OTP prompt: "We're friends with benefits but I actually like you."Mild smut, much angst.





	1. Chapter 1

He remembered all those nights he had spent wondering if the Dalish child, for he had seen her as such then, would ever wake.  Nights spent in the cold, unfeeling, dankness of the Shemlen dungeon.  There were times that he thought, if the mark did not kill the girl, the cold surely would.  Still, he worked to keep her in this world.  

Then, miraculously, she had awoken.  In that moment, he knew he was bond to her.  That he would help her however he needed to.  The mark had to be guarded after all.  The key to saving his people rested within that frail being.  It was a duty.  Something he had to do, even if he wished he did not.  It was just another duty in a long list of others.

At some point, duty had turned to something else.  He was not sure how.  If he was ever asked to pinpoint the moment duty had turned to enjoyment, the answer would likely be varied.  

Perhaps, it was the time she had challenged him on his views of the Dalish.  Or, it could have been when she had begun to show such eager fascination with the Fade.  It could have started to shift as early as when she had declared she would keep him from harm however she had to.

More likely, it was a gradual thing.  Something that had happened over the course of many easy conversations.  Times when she had peppered him with questions about his experiences in the Fade.  When she had sought his advice or opinions.  

All the times she had taught him something new.  Made him see like he had not before.  Made him realize just how wrong his early opinions were of her.  She was no child.  She was a woman, a beautiful, inquisitive, kind, and intelligent woman.  She was not frail, far from it.  She was stronger than he had thought possible to find here.  

All the times she had brought such light into this dark, muted world he found himself in.   Light carried on the waves of her laughter.  The twinkling of her eyes, curls that were never tamed matching the fire of her soul, and all the little gestures she did that he had come to know so well.

This light was always chased by a fear.  Fear for that which he refused to examine.  Fear that he was getting too far into something that he would not be able to escape.  Fear that, before long, he would not care if he  _ did  _ escape.

What he could say, was she had become his friend.  Something he had not had in this world.  Something he had not expected.  Then she had become something more.

The incident had happened shortly after they’d settled into Skyhold.  Construction still in progress so that the halls constantly rang with the raucous of hammers and grating of stone on stone.  

She had come to him in the evening.  Just as the sounds were finally starting to slow for the night.  He remembered her expression.  Haunted, pained, her eyes drawn dark from lack of sleep.  It made something ache deep inside him.

She’d come up to him.  Not stopping when he gave her his customary greeting.  Not giving him a chance to make the offer he had planned, he had hoped to speak with her in the Fade.  Speak where it would be private and comfortable for her.  

Instead of allowing him this, she startled him by pressing herself to him, gripping the collar of his shirt so he was forced to bend down to her.  Then her lips were brushing against his earlobe, causing a shock to run down his spine.  He was too stunned to do anything against it.  

“I need you, Solas.  I need to feel something please.  Help me,”  a pause, she pulled away from him so she could look him in the eyes, “I trust you and I… I need to feel.  I need,”  Her fingers tightened once on his shirt then let him go, “a release.  Please.”

Blood was rushing through his ears, along with another increasingly prominent part of his body, as he tried to process exactly what was happening.

“Inquisitor, I---”

“I know you don’t like me that way.  It would just be… well, whatever.  I won’t expect anything from you other than what you would give.  Just,”  She shifted away from him, taking a few steps back, “Consider it.  If you don’t come to my quarters tonight, I will leave it be.”

This was where the story should have ended.  He should have gone straight to his assigned space once he had finished his work in the rotunda.  He did not.  Instead, his feet followed the familiar path to, what had once been, his quarters.  Her plea to him, filling his mind.

He had sworn to himself to care for her.  This would simply be another aspect of that.  He understood the need, the desire to relinquish control when the world set heavy on your shoulders.  He could give her this.  Give her the ability to forget, even if only for a few hours.

He had not bothered with knocking.  He’d let himself in and, when he got up the stairs, his breath halted in his lungs.  She stood by the fire, hair falling down her back in waves, longer and more stunning then he had even imagined.  She wore a robe that was thin enough he could see her silhouette flickering with the flames.

She turned to him and smiled.  Warm, welcoming, and bright, so bright.  No one had looked at him like that before.  

Her fingers went to the drawstring of her robe.  She pulled it loose, letting the fabric slowly slide from her form as she spoke, “I’m glad you came.”

And that was the start of it.   He never took her.  He always kept his leggings on, though it was often painful against his erection, but he would not join with her, not like that.  That first night, after he had worked her till every muscle in her body trembled, she had reached for him.  He had almost let her, but somehow found strength to carefully take her wrist.  Kiss it with a shake of his head, and then tuck her into sleep.

Since that night he had given her pleasure several times.  Stolen moments in her quarters, a tent, or under the cool, speckled shade of trees.  Reveled in the sounds of her, the taste of her, more delicious than anything he could remember, and the sheer joy of bringing her to orgasm beneath his fingers, his magic, his mouth, his tongue.  

Tonight, he had blindfolded her, bound her wrists with a soft sash, and then proceeded to flood her with sensations.  He kissed every inch of her body.  He nibbled, licked, and sucked her till she arched for him.  He ran his fingernails along her skin, brushed a dry paint brush across her hyper sensitive points, the areas he knew made her writhe.  Then he’d used his mouth to bring her to the brink, once, twice, and then one last time because he needed her pleasure like he needed air in his lungs.

When she was satiated, and settled in her bed, he had left her as he always did.  Left to hurry to his own chambers.  Tonight, the ache was particularly strong.  His erection pushing painful to the fabric of his pants so, when he finally tore them off himself, he actually breathed a sigh of relief.  

Then he got on his bed and began caressing himself.  Picturing her as she had been at the heights of her pleasure.  Calling to his mind the sounds she had made till he could hear them clear in his mind.  His own voice pleading with her now, begging her to take him in, take more of him.  Begging to be consumed by her, lost to her.

His hand moved in increasingly erratic strokes.  The familiar pressure building at the base of his spine.  His hips jerked, stomach muscles tightening as he started to tip over the edge.  

He remembered the feel of her insides tightening around his fingers or tongue when she orgasmed, the wash of her desire on him.  Imagining that was what now surrounded his throbbing cock, not his own desperate fingers.

“Vhenan.  Yes, ma vhenan, there.”

He released.  His seed spilling fast and thick on his hand and stomach.  Ultimately unsatisfying, even as the remnants of orgasm flowed through him.

It was not the orgasm that made him shiver now.  It was the words he had spoken in the throes of his imaginings.  Even more so, the truth they brought that he could no longer deny.  

He brought his clean hand to his face as he mumbled into the flesh of his hand, “Ar lath ash.”


	2. Worth The Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last minute add on to earlier prompt because I had to.
> 
> Smut ensues.

Solas was becoming restless.  His usual calm demeanor threatening to topple over.  More than once, he had snapped at one of the kitchen staff asking him a simple question.  He had apologized of course, but he need not give them another reason to be hesitant of him.  Although, at least this reason would be something he had actually done instead of whispered rumors of the apostate Fade walker.  

His tolerance for Dorian, was also at an all time low.  Though, Solas felt much less awful for snapping at _him,_ than he did for snapping at the staff.  For one, Dorian took none of it personally.  For another, he often had it coming.  Though, they _had_ reached a point of weary companionability that Solas wished to continue.

Still, it could hardly be helped.  No matter how many times he told himself he was being a fool.  It did not change the feelings that swarmed his mind like those bees Sera so adored.  

The Inquisitor had been avoiding him.  Not only had she not asked for his intimate company, since the last time when he had blindfolded her, but she did not seek him out in the rotunda for shared conversation.  Had chosen to take Dorian and, much to Solas and Vivienne’s annoyance, the Ice Queen herself.  Vivienne was not pleased at being dragged about through mud and who knew what else.

Now, Emma had been back for days and he had hardly seen her, not even in passing.

He had gone over that last night a million times in his head.  No matter what, he could not find what he had done to cause this.  It was not the blindfold, she had enjoyed that before.  In fact, it was mild compared to some of the things they had tried.  

And _those_ just a drip in the ocean of things he imagined doing with her.  Things he desired to…

Solas cursed as his quill left a large spot of ink in his distraction.  He would need to redo this page of translations now.  A waste of time and parchment.  This would not do.  

With a deep sigh, he put his supplies away before taking the stone steps up to Dorian.  As much as he hated to ask him, Dorian was one of her closest friends.  If anyone would be likely to know where she had gone, it would be him.

Naturally, Dorian could not simply tell him.  It took several minutes, of what was essentially haggling, to get the information out of him.    Finally, he had been told that she’d gone out to the herb garden to see how things were progressing there.  

In retrospect, he wished he had simply thought to check there.  She loved the gardens, insisting on doing much of the gardening herself, to Josephine’s initial dismay.  Nobility didn’t think much of those who did things like tend their own gardens or wipe their own asses.

When he walked out, he saw her bent over one of the potting areas.  Her clothing covered in a dusting of dirt, handprints visible on her thighs where she’d brushed the dirt from her hands.  The sun caught on her hair making it flame.  One of her many stray curls fell into her eyes and she blew at it to try and remove it from her vision.

He walked over to her, quiet as always.  Not necessarily because he wanted to sneak up on her, it was simply the way he was used to moving.  

When he got near, his hand acted on its own accord.  His fingers reached out, he caught the springy lock on his finger and tucked it behind her ear.  She startled, nearly falling back onto her bottom as she looked up at him, hand to her forehead to shade her eyes.

“Inquisitor.”

“I…”  She swallowed, shifting her gaze back to the plants, “Hello.”

“I would have a word, if you please.”

She shifted, looked at the plant safely tucked into the soil in front of her.  He could practically hear her mind hunting for an excuse before she said, “I’m a bit messy at the moment.  Maybe—”

“I do not mind.”

She sighed and stood.  The motion bringing the smell of freshly tilled earth and mingling with the smell of her; vanilla, lavender, and a hint of something else he still could not place.

“Alright.  What did you want to talk about?”

He went over options in his head.  Even if he wanted to take her to his quarters, or hers, he highly doubted she would agree to it.  Then he thought of the small library that had once served as a private study for him.  It had since been overrun with cobwebs and no one went there.  It would suite to give them the privacy they needed.

“Come.”

“I don’t—”

“Please, lethallan.”

She hesitated for a beat, then gave a nod.  She followed him in silence the whole way.  He led her to the room, held the door open for her, and then shut it behind them.  He knew that she was uncertain.  That they had crossed some kind of line, for any other time she would have asked him questions about where they were going or why here.

Now, she simply stood in the room.  Her hands flitting to tug on her sleeves, the hem of her top, anything to stay busy.  It was the first time he had seen her uncomfortable in her own skin and it made his heart ache to see her so with him.

Solas spoke, “Did I do something?”

Her eyes came up to him finally, brows knitted, “What?”

His hands went to clasp behind his back, nails scraping into the palms, “Have I offended you in some way?”

“Why would…”  She shifted, tucked a curl behind one ear, “Why would you think that?”

Irritation simmered under his skin.  Irritation at himself for being so sensitive to her avoidance, and at her, for pretending she did not know _exactly_ what he was referring to.

“I believe you know precisely why I would think such.”

A deep breath and she started pacing, “I just… I’m sorry, you’re right.  I shouldn’t have avoided you.  I should have just told you that I…”  She stopped in front of the books refusing to look at him, “I can’t do… well, what we’ve been doing anymore.”

Solas’ stomach dropped, he felt himself go numb, but was no longer able to keep from moving closer to her.  His hand reached out to touch her shoulder.  She turned to look at him but shifted so that his hand fell from her.

His fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides, “Again, if I did something—”

“No it isn’t… isn’t that.”

“Do I not please you anymore?  Is it—”

“No, you are perfect.”  She flushed, hastening to continue, “I mean I… no it isn’t that either.”

Unable to hold back after so long without her, he closed the distance more.  One hand went to her cheek, thumb stroking along her cheekbone.  Her lips parted as she released a breath of air, her head tilting into his hand.

“Solas.”

He bent to her.  His head going to nuzzle against her neck, to bury himself in her scent, as his mouth touched the pulse that beat fast in her throat.  She did not hold to him, but she did not pull from him either.

He kissed along her neck, his hand coming up to pull back her collar so he could reach her collar bone.  His tongue flicking out to touch against the hollow of her throat before he traced his way to the other side of her neck.  Then up to her ear, teasing the lobe and making his way up to the sensitive point.

She shivered, then her hands were on his chest.  At first, she gripped to him, pulling herself closer to him as he kept her pinned between him and the bookshelf.  Then, her hands shifted to be flush to his chest and she pushed.  

He pulled from her instantly, though it took effort for him to do so.

When she spoke, her voice was weak, pained, “I… can’t Solas.”

“Why?”

“Please, I just—”

“Just tell me why, what have I done to—”

“Solas, I—”

“I realize I have no right to ask it, but please if you—”

She practically yelled her words at him, “Ar lath ma.”

He froze.  His heart thrummed loud in his ears.  Sudden heat flushing his entire being, breath halting in his lungs, as time seemed to stop around him.  

Somehow he managed to push out a word, “What?”

He saw her press herself into the bookshelf more, her eyes shifting to look anywhere but at his face as she mumbled, “Ar lath ma.”

“You…”  He could not form anything else.  He was too full.

“I’m sorry.  I know you don’t have any feelings like that… that you were just being a good friend all this time or, whatever, and I know I said I wouldn’t ask anything else of you.  I just… somehow I started… started falling in love with you.  I don’t want to make you feel obligated in anyway.  I don’t want to ruin our friendship, but I can’t keep—”

“Again.”

“I…”  She finally looked up at him, brows furrowed, “What?”

He realized he sounded desperate, disbelieving, almost afraid, “Say it again, please.”

Her brows softened.  She must have caught something in his eyes, because he saw her visibly relax.  Though her fingers shook as she brought them up to touch his jaw.

“Ar lath ma, Solas.”

For the first time, he lowered his mouth to hers.  It was another thing he had never allowed himself.  Now he brushed his lips light against her, tongue coming out to tease along her lower lip.  There was less a taste and more a current that ran between them.  Intense, powerful, jolting his system.

He felt her lip quiver, open to him, and he could hold back no longer.  His hand found the back of her head again, fingers gripping to her curls to tilt her face to him.  It was like a dam breaking.  The need hitting them both at the same time.

She moaned into his mouth as her tongue met his.  He pushed her firmer into the bookshelf, pressing himself to her.  In response, she rubbed her hips against him.  The motion causing friction against his arousal and making him shudder.

Then her hands were on his belt, making quick work of the clasp before letting it drop to the floor.  His hand was already slipping into the front of her pants, his mouth releasing a moan into hers when he found her already wet for him.  The moan turned to a growl as her fingers brushed against the length of his cock.

He pulled his mouth from hers just far enough so he could speak between panting, “Ar lath ma.”

Her fingers stilled on him and her voice was low, questioning, “Truly?”

“Yes.  For so long I have wanted, I have loved you.  Needed you–”  

She started moving her hand along him once more and words were lost.

She spoke once again, “Garas, aman na’mis.” _Come, sheathe yourself inside me._

The words sent electricity hurtling down his spine.  He pulled from her so that he could pull her pants down off her.  Then he lifted her, pressing her to the bookshelf as he gripped her thighs, wrapping her legs firm around his waist.  His own pants having fallen to the floor, his cock’s length now rested snug against her wet opening.

He slid along her heat, feeling her clit and the lips of her opening rubbing against him.  She gripped his shoulders, fingers digging into him even through the fabric of his shirt.  She rocked her hips, pleasuring herself along him.

He spoke in her ear, “Isalan hima sa i’na.” _I lust to become one with you._

She was panting now, words spoken between desperate breaths, “Rosa’da’din in’em.”   _Cum inside me._

Normally, he would go slow.  Normally, he would undress her fully.  Taste every inch of her.  Bring her to orgasm so he could feel her climax as he slid into her.  Now, it was too much.  Late.  He would do all that and more later, but now…

He lifted her, pressing his tip to her opening.  Grinding his teeth as he attempted to ease her on to it.  To not push her down on him and sheath himself to the hilt in her heat.

She rocked her hips, brought her mouth to his ear, “Fuck me, take me hard and deep.  I won’t break.”

It was all it took.  His control given permission to flee, he thrusted forward just as he pulled her down on him.  The sensation was enough to make him dizzy.  She was even better than he had imagined.  

He pushed into her as she gripped him, his pace punishing from his need.  She was wet enough he slid in and out of her easy, feeling her arousal trickling a path down his cock and balls.  Hearing the sounds their bodies made as he moved in her.  

It had been too long.  He had wanted her for too long and she was…

_Fuck. There yes… I’m going to… I can’t…_

Knowing he would not last long, he reached between them.  His fingers found her clit and he released a small jolt of magic.  She cried out, gripped tight to him so he could feel her breasts rubbing against his chest as he bounced her against him.  Her nipples hard even through their clothing.  Then she was squeezing him, milking his cock with her orgasm.

Again.  He wanted her again.

He forced himself to slow some.  Deep rolling thrusts before he stopped completely to try and regain some control.  She whimpered into the flesh of his throat, then she bit him and his knees shook.  

“Pala ‘em elvar’el. More  Cum in—”   _Fuck me harder._

He touched her again, a shot of magic, just as he started fucking her hard enough that some books fell with a crash off the shelves behind them.  She screamed out again, orgasming once more, this time the sound cut off as his mouth covered hers.

Shortly after she began squeezing him again, he felt himself tightening.  His thrusts became erratic, desperate.  The fingers of one hand tightening in her hair while the other squeezed her ass.  Then he pushed in deep till he felt himself hitting against her core once again.

He groaned his pleasure into her mouth even as he released himself deep inside her pussy.  He stayed like that, both of them trembling against each other.  His lips once more went to rest kisses on her mouth, then her jaw, her throat, finally at her ear.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.  Let me take you to your room so we may do this properly.”

She gave a soft laugh, “If that wasn’t proper I’m eager to see what you have in store for me, my love.”

His hands tightened on her at the endearment.  His lips found hers, and he kissed her as he carefully lifted her off him.  When she was settled on the ground, he pulled back, brushing his thumb along her cheek.

“Many things, vhenan.  Nuvenan rosa’da’din in ma sule enan’ma.  Jutuan ma ir rosas’da’din, ma tel’aman melin.”   _I want to cum inside of you until I spill out of you.  I will make you cum so much you can not remember your own name._

She flushed, her lips parting in an endearing oh.  He smiled and bent to kiss her nose before he moved to pull up his pants.

“Now hurry.  There is much I would do to you before morning arrives.”

**Author's Note:**

> There have been a lot of these lately. Mostly because some of the first group was back log I hadn't posted here and after that I've been trying to catch up with the ones currently in my tumblr asks. Will probably be more before too long since I'm planning on participating in the DA Friday drunk writing circle again tomorrow. :D Hope y'all don't mind the prompt flood hehe


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